Comforting the Femme Commander
by Darkeyes17
Summary: G1: Complete. BEWARE, STICKY. The war's ended...but Elita has not been with Optimus for so long and he is still away. Prowl and Jazz do their duty in comforting her, distracting her from the loneliness in her spark. Rare pairing in Prowl/Jazz/Elita-1.


**A/N: I had a suggestion from 'I heart Soundwave' to do either Prowl or Jazz with a femme. So…I thought…how about both of them with a femme? And the lucky femme is…ELITA-1! Don't worry, it's not crack-y, it's more of a hurt/comfort situation. In this story the war has just finished (Cybertron now uses Earth time), Prowl and Jazz are bonded, and Elita is bonded with Optimus. Also, in the context of this story, there is not too big a taboo with sharing partners in order to give a form of sexual comfort. Beware...this is long and smutty, don't forget that it is sticky as well so I must say this just in case, and I'll make it nice and clear:**

**IF YOU DO NOT LIKE STICKY OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 16/18 DEPENDING ON HOW LEGAL YOU ARE...DO NOT GO ANY **FURTHER! I realised I should put more warning, so here they are. ****

**You all know my disclaimers. **

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><p><strong>Comforting the Femme Commander<strong>

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><p>On the new Iacon base in the rec-room, the Autobot SIC and TIC shared a worried look. Optimus Prime was away on a diplomatic mission, considering now that Cybertron was now getting repaired and under Autobot rule, it was needed to re-established the neighbours in their solar system. But the leader had not stopped to do anything at all with anyone but recharge before working on what needed to be done for the good of Cybertron.<p>

He had only spent an hour at best with his bondmate, Elita-1.

And now Optimus wasn't going to be back for another week at the least, and the strain showed on the faceplates of Elita, who the black and white couple were currently worrying about.

'_Prowler,'_ Jazz said over their bond as the pink femme left the rec-room, '_Didja see the look on her face?'_

'_Yes,'_ the handsome Praxian mech replied, taking a sip of his energon, '_it's rather worrying. I think I understand why Optimus gave us those orders before he left. I would tell someone else the same if I had been away from you for over 9 million years and still couldn't see you…I think we may have to execute those orders today_ _before she deteriorates further."_

Jazz nodded, and they both finished their energon before grabbing another on the way out.

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><p>Elita was in hers and Optimus's quarters, sitting on the large berth that could easily hold five bots of her size. Her optics were dimmed with sorrow and a trickle of tears made her way down her beautiful, but slightly war-worn faceplates. The femme commander was feeling alone and desolate. She had only seen Optimus once before the war finished, and once after it finished, and the lack of intimacy was taking a toll on her spark. They had only an hour before Optimus left, and all they had done was talk before they shared one kiss. ONE kiss! But the feel and taste still lingered, although she hungered for more. There was only so much self-service one could do in 9 million years before it lost its appeal.<p>

She lifted her head slightly, when she heard the keypad outside her quarters grant access to whoever it was. The forms of Jazz and Prowl came through the doorway. She smiled weakly at them, drying her tears but could not gather the energy to be the normal strong, collected femme commander she usually was.

"What can I do for you Jazz, Prowl?" Elita asked softly. These mechs she knew, they were her comrades and friends and that they wouldn't judge her. She saw them share a look before Jazz came forward to sit on the berth next to her and wrap her in his arms.

"Nah Elita. Ah think the question is…what can we do for ya?" returned the saboteur, rubbing her upper arms comfortingly.

Elita sank into the embrace, relishing the contact and mumbled, "I doubt there is anything that you can actually do for me right now."

Prowl cleared his throat and said, "Actually, you may be surprised. Before he left…Optimus instructed us to do anything we could to comfort you should your emotional state decrease. Which it unfortunately has. Elita, we will do anything to help."

The pink femme laughed bitterly and said, "Yes, anything but I what I really want I bet."

Deciding to be truthfully blunt, Prowl said smoothly, "Optimus said _anything_…including hugging…kissing…and interfacing…he drew the line at a spark merge though."

Jazz felt Elita stiffen under his hold and he looked down to see a wide opticed expression on her face before she licked her lips slowly and said, "Even…even interfacing?"

Jazz grinned and nodded, "Yep! OP gave the go ahead if you wanted to be in the middle of a black and white sandwich!" Prowl and Elita promptly turned their hands to look at Jazz in a bewildered way, before Prowl said, "If you are comfortable Elita, we are willing to offer ourselves for your comfort."

Elita shifted, clasping her slender hands together. She sighed, making her decision quickly, and said, "I…want to…I just feel a little awkward right now is all."

Hearing her words, the two mechs shared a smouldering gaze over the top of her head, and smirking slyly, Jazz whispered tantalizingly in her audio, "Well…if ya wanted us to, Prowler and Ah could put on a little show…it's also a bit of a thrill for us…we've neva had anyone watchin' before…and it'll give ya time to get adjusted to the idea."

Elita couldn't stop the shiver running down her back strut. Everyone knew that Prowl and Jazz were handsome mechs. For them to interface in front of her…the idea made her faceplates heat. She looked at Prowl, who had drawn closer to the berth, all indications of a professional facade gone now as a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. Her optics were drawn to his striking red chevron and his majestic doorwings, which were fluttering slowly. She heard Jazz gasp beside her, and she guessed that the flutter was Prowl's way of showing that he was aroused. Prowl leaned forward over her shoulder, and pulled Jazz into a smouldering kiss. Elita had a great view of the kiss, and felt a wave of arousal overcome her as she watched their mouths practically _devour_ the others in the liplock, glossae winding and denta playfully nipping at lips.

Hearing a soft, feminine moan, the two black and white's pulled apart to glance at Elita, who was biting her lower lip, her optics over-bright in a sign of arousal.

"I think…she likes this idea Jazz," Prowl purred at his mate, who grinned back.

"Mmm…wonder if she wants a taste?" Jazz teased playfully, while leaning in to Elita but giving her enough time to pull away if she didn't want to be kissed.

Elita hesitated for a mere second before thinking 'what the hell!' and meeting Jazz halfway, pressing her lips to his. It was different from kissing Optimus, this…this was _spicy_. Jazz's lipplates massaged her own and his glossa playful and teasing. He pulled away, much to her displeasure, only to be replaced by Prowl. This was different too…it was deeper and richer, seemingly more sinful. Elita moaned into her kiss with the SIC…she understood why Jazz had bonded to him, the mech was a great kisser!

Prowl pulled away, smirk firmly shaping his mouth and Elita ordered, "OK, you two, on the berth, giving me a show, now!"

"As you wish milady," Prowl said, purring the reply at her and fluttering his doorwings again. Jazz released Elita and shimmied to the centre of the berth, arching his back provocatively as Elita watched and Prowl crawled slowly towards him, moving his hips from side to side.

Elita moved so she was lying comfortably on her side on the berth, getting a full view of the handsome black and white frames in front of her. She felt so naughty for doing this, but it felt so good to be touched so intimately. She smiled softly at Optimus's consideration, sending his officers to take care of her like this. It was a secret little fantasy she always had, watching a bonded couple interface in front of her. She watched with rapt optics as Prowl knelt between Jazz's spread thighs and began to kiss his bumper, laving his glossa into seams and stimulating the sensor nodes teasingly. Jazz grinned and gasped, reacting deliciously to the touches his partner bestowed on him lovingly. Prowl mapped out Jazz's chest with kisses and licks, moving down to the abdomen and trailing his glossa up and down in long strokes.

Both Elita and Jazz moaned at the Praxian's actions. Halfway through a lick, Prowl darted his optics to the side to see Elita slowly touching her body, over her breastplates and down over her slim white thighs. He smirked and looked up to meet Jazz's bright and aroused optics with his own.

"What do you say love…should we give our femme commander a show?" Prowl asked Jazz teasingly, moving up to nuzzle the tubing of his neck.

"Mmm, oh yeah Prowl, let's show off that gorgeous hardware of ya'rs," Jazz replied excitedly, hooking his arms around Prowl's shoulders. Prowl smirked and opened up his panel, letting his spike jump out, already straining up and erect. Elita moaned a little louder this time, one of her hands caressing her closed panel. She hadn't seen a spike in _so_ long. Her optics were glued to the point where Prowl's hips hovered above Jazz's, the spike hard, smooth, thick and long and erect. Jazz's own panel opened up seconds after, exposing his own spike which, though slightly shorter, was a tad thicker. His lubricated valve was bared for Elita and Prowl to see.

Expression turning predatory, Prowl captured Jazz's lips passionately and drove his spike into the hot, slicked valve. Jazz's cry was muffled by Prowls lips as he started moving in long, slow strokes before going faster.

Elita couldn't take her optics off the spectacle, the strong frame of Prowl driving in smoothly into Jazz's lithe one, and she could see the spike appear in and out of her line of sight as Prowl controlled his thrusts in and out. Jazz spike was trapped between them, rubbing the belly plating and receiving all kinds of delicious friction from both bodies. She didn't even notice she had her panel open and had been playing with herself until she hit a particularly sensitive node that made her hiss. In the middle of their lovemaking, the black and white couple turned their helms to see Elita slowly working her fingers in and out of her valve while watching them with bright intensity.

"Uuhhhh…it is such a turn on to see ya watchin' us Elita," Jazz groaned, wiggling in place as Prowl buried his helm into his neck to suckle on a few cables.

Chuckling, Elita said with a slight husk in her voice, "If you think that's hot, you should be the one watching. I never knew that you were so _passionate_ with each other."

Raising his helm from Jazz's (rather delectable) neck, Prowl replied, "Elita, I am known as a perfectionist…it's logical that it would translate to me making sure I am a good, if not great lover." His pace, which had been steady with long, smooth strokes, changed abruptly with his words, and he turned back to Jazz, seeing his mouth half-open and slack with pleasure, and he began to pound his thrusts, making Jazz cry out his name repeatedly. Prowl moaned in return when sneaky saboteur fingers dug into the sensitive wiring of his doorwings, making him go just _that_ much faster and harder, milking his lover's valve for lubricant.

Elita's two digits sped up in tempo with the pace, marvelling at the sight: the clanging hips, Prowl's smug, dominating expression and Jazz's pleasured, passionate ones. She was softly keening, not enough though, to be heard of the metal clanging and Jazz's moans and Prowl's pants.

Reaching down to Jazz's bumper, Prowl did what he did best and tactically traversed the plating there to get to a cable that, if stroked just right, would get Jazz to overload.

Throwing his helm back with a yell, Jazz overloaded around the hardened length, bucking up as transfluid exploded from his own member to slick over their bellies. Prowl and Elita looked at the pure expression of bliss on the saboteurs face as he overloaded, and it threw Prowl into his own overload, continuing to thrust even as transfuid seeped out of his own spike. They bucked together a few more times, smiling contentedly at each other, before the tactician pulled out gently, showering his lover with kisses on his face, lips and helm.

Elita didn't overload, but was very revved up by now. The arousal was dampened by Prowl's gentle post-coital actions towards Jazz. The kissing, the gentle touching…it made her miss Optimus and she closed her panel back up. Jazz noticed and jerked his head towards the femme.

Realising Elita needed to be distracted again, Prowl and Jazz moved to where she was, embracing her with their chests pressed to her frame as close as possible, even though their abdominal plating was streaked with Jazz's shining transfluid. "I know we are not Optimus. But we hope you can take what you can from us…feel our sparkbeats and know you are not alone Elita. You have many bots here that will take care of you," Prowl whispered, kissing her left antennae. Jazz nodded, and was stroking his hand over her smooth back.

The pink femme nodded, and relaxed into the strong arms surrounding her.

As Elita relaxed, in tandem, both mechs soothed by rubbing her arms, but their intent morphed from comfort to sensuality, their hands seeking sensors on the curvy femme body, as black and white hands mapped out a body they hadn't encountered before like this, making their circuits zing with excitement and exploration. Elita released an unintended whimper at the touches and arched her back, her breastplates catching the optics of Jazz.

Swifter than Elita could realise, the saboteur was in front of her, hands cupping her sides as his mouth copied what Prowl had done to his bumper earlier, kissing and licking those pretty pink breastplates.

Peeking up through his visor, Jazz felt satisfied by the pleasured look on the femmes face.

Prowl had other ideas. "Now now Jazz," he chided playfully, "that's not the way to taste the femme commander." He unsubspaced the cube they had gotten from the rec-room earlier. Picking up through their bond what Prowl was about to do, Jazz pushed Elita back onto the berth. She looked up at the smirking mechs, wondering what they had planned, when Prowl tipped the energon over her chest, abdomen, and thighs, letting the liquid coat her. She gasped sharply at the sensation of the cool liquid on her heated frame.

"This," Prowl continued in a seductive tone, "is how you taste the femme commander."

Elita couldn't believe this. A 9 million year drought with no intimacy and now these mechs were fulfilling fantasies she knew she had and wanted. It made her sad it wasn't her mate himself, but to _feel_, to _finally_ be intimate again overrode those dampeners. She let loose with another gasp as two wriggling glossa's played over her body, lapping and licking at the energon.

"Mmm, ya're right Prowler…this is so much betta," agreed Jazz, licking down across her paler pink plated abdomen, tracing seams with his glossa and his fingers stroking circuit sensor bundles in her hips.

Prowl was in no state to reply. He had already sucked up the energon from Elita's breastplates, and was now swirling his glossa into a the joint where Elita's hip led down into white thighs. He was close to her interface panel and could smell fresh lubricant from behind it. He growled, aroused. It had been a long time since he had been with a femme, but he wouldn't give up Jazz for anyone or anything. But it was exciting, having the chance to be with someone else.

Elita let out a mewl. She hadn't done anything, and they were slowly but surely working her up to an almost frenzied state of arousal. She looked down and saw Prowl lapping around her hip and interface panel area, but Jazz was still level with her abdomen. She grinned. His spike was within reach!

She reached for and encircled the piece of hot metal, making Jazz hiss.

"I think someone is a little impatient," Prowl said huskily. It was Jazz's turn to be in no state to reply. Elita's slender hand was working smoothly over his spike in a nice, firm grip, corkscrewing and sliding over the slightly ridged metal.

"Gentlemechs…I haven't seen, much less touched a spike in over 9 million years…you expect me to be _patient_?" Elita asked jokingly, still calmly stroking the length in her hands in a somewhat nonchalant way. Prowl grinned up at her, and took the chance to study Jazz as Elita worked him over. It was enticing, watching Jazz be brought to pleasure by another. His bondmate's mouth was half-open and he was panting, obviously trying not to cry out (his name, Prowl knew).

But he also knew that Jazz was too worked up from the sensitivity of his previous overload and he leant up and stopped Elita's hand, circling the base of Jazz's spike with a thumb and finger and squeezing hard enough to stave off overload…for now.

Elita pouted slightly and mumbled, "Prowl, stop stealing my fun."

Optics focusing on hers, he leant to her audio and breathed, "Oh, my femme commander…the fun hasn't even begun."

The pink frame shuddered, and in a whirl of motion, she was suddenly up, straddling Jazz's lap as he kneeled with Prowl behind her, steadying her at her back. She noted the position they were in and her faceplates heated. She knew what their plan was now. Jazz was smirking at her, and she could feel Prowl's smirk at her neck where he had rested his helm, slowing hot air onto her sensitive shoulder cables. She whined, wanting…_anything!_

"Did you two self-combust when you got together? Because you two are so _hot_," Elita blurted the thought that had been running around in her processor for some time. Both mechs chuckled deeply, the vibrations affecting them all, and Jazz answered, "Almost…durin' our bondin', we had to stop right after the merge our bodies were so hot!"

As he said the words, his black hands went down and cupped Elita's interface panel, while Prowl's copied the motions, only his hands laid, intent heavy, on her aft port panel.

The pink femme squirmed in the grasp of the black and white's heated hands on places that only two mechs had ever been before now. She opened them obligingly, knowing that this release was what she needed, and that Prowl and Jazz were willing to give her that. Both mechs hummed approvingly, their free hands caressing her helm and sides. She felt as two fingers played around her valve, untouched but by her own hands for so long, pushing around in the lubricant, exploring the various nodes at the valve opening. One finger – Prowl's, dragged back to cirle the warm lunricant over her aft port.

Now, Cybertronian's as a general species did not produce large amounts of messy waste, so the taboo associated with the area was not too major. In fact, there had been a period of time where it was preferred, with the belief that it would avoid sparking a sparkling while sparkbonding at the same time. It was found not to be true.

But it did not lubricate as easily as a valve did.

Prowl knew this, and was carefully using Elita's own lubricant to moisten her up, making her ready for him when he would finally slide in. Softly, the chevroned mech asked, "Have you ever…taken two mechs before Elita?"

"Ye….ah….sssss," she hissed, for Jazz had pressed two fingers into her slick valve at the exact moment.

"Oh? Do tell," said Jazz, smirking at his lovers.

"Ah! If you want me to tell, you wouldn't be trying to make me speechless and stroking that node! NNnngh…fine…when Optimus and I…oohh…first went out, we had a night of fun with Ultra Magnus…it…was very interesting and pleasurable to say the least…but never since then," she replied, expression twisting gracefully into bliss as Prowl gently pushed a fingertip into her aft port and Jazz continued his slow fingering rhythm.

"Then ya're gonna love this," murmured Jazz, feeling through the valve wall as Prowl slowly pushed his finger all the way in. He rubbed his fingers against the lining, stroking delicate wires and feeling Prowl's fingers rub back.

They both grinned fiendishly as Elita screamed in pleasure and overloaded heavily, both her valve and port clamping down on their fingers, her hands grabbing onto Jazz's shoulders so she wouldn't topple off her straddled positiom. The mechs held their own position, patiently waiting for her to let it out. She finally slumped forward, leaning her helm against the number '4' on Jazz's chest, panting uncontrollably as wires seemed to spark behind her optics. Her body shook uncontrollably in their hold, and lubricant dripped out and coated both their fingers.

During her overload, Prowl slipped another two fingers in and waited til she slumped forward before scissoring her, massaging those tense cables and wires into stretching and relaxing. He didn't meet Jazz's fingers through the lining, not wanting to overwhelm Elita with overloads…it would make her overheat and possibly not enjoy the indulgent treatment.

Elita, meanwhile…just couldn't think because of the pure, unadulterated burning pleasure hazing her processor. She knew that she was panting, that she was nestled on the thighs of two mechs with fingers within her, but beyond that, she couldn't really process.

Jazz tilted his head, and Prowl nodded.

Lining up their spikes and lifting the elegant pink hips, they pushed in together. Three simultaneous moans were heard as Jazz and Prowl slowly wiggled their hips, trying to be as gentle as possible and as Elita's helm snapped back towards the ceiling, vocal in her pleasure. Prowl grunted as he felt the cables and wires in the tight aft port tighten around him, and felt the tip of Jazz's spike brush his through the sensitive lining that separated the valve from aft port.

Elita watched through bright, half-shuttered optics as Prowl brought one hand to wrap around Jazz's neck and pull him forward so their mouths met in a tender, open-mouthed kiss. She was in the middle, their spikes fully seated within her and she had a very nice, close up view once again of them kissing. They surprised her next by adding her own lips into the play, making it a three way kiss. The pink femme keend softly into their mouths as they slowly began to move, their rhythm being so when Jazz would pull out, Prowl would push back in, being relentless in their quest to drive her to the brink, sensors everywhere in her body going wild and sending mass amounts of pleasure data coursing throughout her systems.

Although they were going slow, all three bodies were going to overload soon, based purely on the over-sensitivity from previous overloads. The mechs rocked into Elita, still joined together over her shoulder in their kiss, pushing their lengths over and over again into the heat that held them, that bound them there in something more than duty…it was comfort.

From their gentle and passionate treatment, Elita was now sobbing in pleasure, begging to overload and petting any sensitive wiring and circuitry on her bodies that she could. She wanted to bring them with her, letting them fill her up like she hadn't for _so_ long.

"Nnn, nnn….hah, ah!...oh yes boys, you are so good…ooooohhhhh!"

Prowl and Jazz heard her almost incomprehensible pants and begs, feeling the port and valve tighten almost impossibly around them both, and with a hard, simultaneous thurst, the black and white mechs sent Elita into a tumbling, swirling overload. The femme commander screamed in rapture as their spikes continued to stroke over her nodes, prolonging the passionate torture, until, they finally too, overloaded with a cry, spilling their loads inside of her. Spent, they all tumbled sideways onto the berth, Elita immediately falling into recharge as soon as her helm touched the soft metallo-mesh.

Prowl and Jazz silently pulled out and cleaned up, settling to either side of the pink body of the femme commander, but joining their hands over her body as she fell into recharge.

"We did a good job, didn't we Prowler?" asked Jazz, feeling very satisfied with the nights happenings. Besides, not many mechs could said they had interfaced Prime's beautiful femme, and he was honoured to be a part of this small group.

Stroking his bondmate's black hand and sending pulses of love through their bond, Prowl murmured, "Yes…but look, even in recharge, her frame knows that we are not the _right_ one."

For Elita, though snuggled into their frames, had crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah…but Ah hope she'll be a bit happier. It'd suck if our actions make her miss Boss Bot more, not distract her."

They lay in silence, just basking in the moment before Jazz asked, almost tentatively, 'Hey Prowler…if Ah was in Boss femmes position…wouldja give the order to someone while ya were away?"

Prowl took a moment to think it over, his doorwings twitching as he thought. Finally, he nodded. "If I knew that it would be to your benefit, I would. If I had to pick someone…it would be difficult, but it would have to be either Elita and Prime, or the twins, because I could trust them with it…as much as I may not like it, I would do it...for you…I understand what Prime has done, he did it for his love of Elita-1."

Jazz smiled, glad that Prowl would care for him in that way. But he grinned and said, "Aw, thanks Prowl. Well, if Ah knew that ya were gonna be away, Ah would do two things. Film lotsa video's of us for yar viewin' pleasure…and have Raj and Hound as back-ups. They'd prolly give ya the best time. And new experiences," he finished with a wink. Prowl chuckled at his mate's rambunctious comments.

Darting a glance back to Elita, Jazz smiled a little sadly and said, "She really went for it didn't she?"

Nodding, Prowl whispered back, "She did. 9 million years is a long time to wait for intimacy. It just goes to show her strength of character and her resolve. I admire that. I think I may go crazy without intimate company, as anti-social as I am, for that long."

Jazz reiterated what he said before. "Ah hope she's better for th' rest of the week."

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><p>And after that night, Elita was definitely more chipper and upbeat than she had been, and did not need the black and whites method of 'distraction' for the week. She made them energon goodies in thanks, and only asked them once during that week to just recharge next to her, just so she knew that someone was there. They acquiesced, knowing that it was all in the healing, sexual or not. They were pleased that they had made Elita feel better.<p>

And at the end of the week when Optimus Prime finally returned…every Autobot laughed as Elita tackled him to the floor as soon as he stepped into base and growled, "Don't you dare leave me that sexually frustrated again!"

And bots avoided the corridor leading their commanders quarters that night…they didn't want to hear their pleasured screams as they made love and sparkmerged.

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><p><strong>AN; Whoaaaa….exhausted writing so much smut! Yes, it was a rare pairing, but I hope it didn't turn too many people off XD BUT PLEASE REVIEW! I want to see what you thought. I have an upcoming Starscream/Megatron request for Yume95, (SEE I DO REQUESTS!) and that'll be up within a week at the most hopefully. After that, my fic uploads will be WAY slower, cos my holidays will have finished by then. **


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